If It Meant Living
by Graceyn
Summary: Mass Effect:  The story of Commander Graceyn Shepard  - life, death, rebirth, and life once again - in the voice of Commander Shepard.


**If It Meant Living**

_The story of Commander Graceyn Shepard - life, death, rebirth, and life once again - in her own voice._

* * *

><p>When asked to describe her, the phrase people most often seemed to choose was "full of life – even larger than life." She may have grown up on a backwater colony, but even back then those who met her knew she was destined for greater things and distant places. It wasn't that she was unhappy growing up; she was friendly and outgoing, maybe even popular (she didn't worry about that, so she couldn't really say for sure). She loved her parents - most of the time anyway. It's just that, well, there was a quote in one of those late-20th century fantasy vids that her junior high boyfriend loved to watch, in which the endearingly cute female character looks at her parents one day and says "I love you like pancakes, but I'm getting the hell out of here!" She'd loved it immediately and couldn't wait to use it on the day after graduation.<p>

The Batarians moved up her departure by 2 years, however, and she never got the chance. Wait, that sounded callous. Never think that watching her friends, her teachers, _her parents_ die wasn't a horrible, devastating, life-changing experience, because it was that and more. But her father died protecting her, and the last thing he said to her was "_Live_." The next day she set out to do just that.

Joining the Alliance was never really much of a question. What, she was going to sit at a desk her whole life or something? They taught her to use her biotics and to do amazing things with the tools at hand, then sent her off to do great things in distant places.

She was only a year out of the Academy when the Batarians attacked Elysium during her shore leave. The deep dark truth was (though she would never tell anyone this) during that desperate, violent fight for survival against all odds, she had never felt so _alive_. So while she wouldn't exactly call herself an adrenaline junkie – she had met some of those and had killed most of them – she was never afraid of the fight, never afraid to risk dying if it meant living in the process.

If there was one little flaw she had, it was those damn Batarians. As a rule she had no problem with aliens - even liked many of them and was endlessly interested and delighted in their many quirks and unique talents.

But those damn Batarians. It seemed they had been on a mission to kill her for her entire life.

So when Balak had tried to crash an asteroid into Terra Nova, in a moment of supreme annoyance she had killed him at the cost of sacrificing 20 hostages. It wasn't a wrong choice exactly; she didn't get into trouble with the brass for it. But she preferred to save innocents whenever possible, and she couldn't say that if he had been any species other than Batarian she wouldn't have made a different choice. She should probably work on that.

The beacon on Eden Prime had changed things a bit for her. The devastation, the sheer genocide in the vision was utterly unlike anything she had ever seen; even the sea of blood and death on Mindoir couldn't begin to compare. While it didn't diminish her spirit, it did add a layer of seriousness to her demeanor, to her outlook. She loved this beautiful, amazing, wondrous galaxy and (most) of the beings in it, and it seemed something had a mind to destroy it all.

After Eden Prime her already interesting life took a swan dive off the crazy cliff. Looking back, it all blurred into a whirlwind of events – exhilarating, terrifying, heart-breaking, life-affirming . She became the first human Spectre. Killed a Matriarch. Saved a Rachni Queen. Killed a Thorian. Saved a bunch of Thorian mind-controlled colonists (and wasn't that one hell of a white-knuckled, teeth-grinding romp). Killed Geth. Lots and lots of Geth. Visited worlds of indescribable beauty. Visited worlds of insufferable misery. Slept and dreamt of the Prothean vision.

Left Ashley to die on Virmire.

She was one of the very best marines in the galaxy. Elite training. Sophisticated equipment. Years of experience. Razor-sharp instincts. That day it wasn't enough. Not enough to save her friend.

She didn't think twice about stealing the Normandy to chase Saren to Ilos. Well, maybe she thought twice but definitely not a third time. She loved the Alliance well enough, but this was about a galaxy's worth of life and death. And she _knew_ she was right. If it nonetheless all went wrong she would of course do everything possible to protect her crew from the repercussions; there was no doubt this was her decision alone. But even if the Alliance and the Council didn't seem to know it at the moment, this was what they paid her to do.

Ilos, Vigil, the Protheans, the Conduit - the crazy cliff was even steeper than she had thought. Ancient worlds, ancient races…a split second meaning the difference between a chance for victory and the destruction of all. She took a moment to remember with a grin just how damn _cool_ the outside of the Citadel had been. She had never felt more alive (this definitely beat Elysium) than standing in space, yet in the Citadel, no sense of up or down, just the majesty of this unfathomable structure, the millions of lights of civilization twinkling in every direction, and the galaxy surrounding her. There was, however, that pesky Reaper attached to the Spire.

And so in the culmination of the hundred events of her life that led to this moment, she saved the world. All the worlds.

She sacrificed human lives to save Council lives because even she wasn't arrogant enough to believe that humanity had the right to overthrow thousands of years of Galactic history. She felt a moment of pity for Saren before killing the _thing_ he had become. She recommended Anderson for the Council because pissing Udina off was never, ever, going to get old.

And because Anderson deserved it, of course.

In the aftermath she took a moment, thought to herself, "_Dad, I think I've done what you asked"_, grinned, and went off to kill some more Geth.

But then her ship exploded in fire and death.

* * *

><p>On finding herself no longer dead, she was…well, glad. There was no other way to put it. With her strong sense of self it was remarkably easy to accept being alive and embrace life again. She had no love for Cerberus - that much was certain. Aside from not agreeing with their basic precepts, she had seen their experiments and cruelty time and again. But she did have to give them credit for their sheer gall in throwing billions of credits at her resurrection, and succeeding – and she wasn't unappreciative of being the recipient of said effort and expense. Of course by her third or so interaction with The Illusive Man she was mostly over that.<p>

Regardless, she was not bitter or angry; mostly she was glad to be alive and set about continuing to fulfill her promise to her father – to _live_. And to saving the galaxy (again).

Turns out, she didn't really realize how much Kaidan meant to her until Horizon. Not actually seeing him on Horizon, but arriving there - seeing the colonists in stasis or gone and thinking that he could be one. Their relationship before her death had been fun, sincere, daring, oddly affecting, and, well, developing. Honestly though, she was a little caught up in being Savior of the Citadel, and it seemed it all could have just been part of the head rush.

The fact that he was the second thing she thought of when she woke up on a Cerberus lab table (right after "Alive?") was…surprising. The fact that the first place she went on having the SR-2 under her control was the Citadel to look for him, even more so. But on being denied, she more - or less - put it aside for the time being; there was a galaxy to save (again), and much adventure to be had.

But on hearing that Kaidan was on Horizon and the Collectors were attacking she felt a sense of dread only experienced twice before in her life – on Mindoir when the first screams cut through the night, and on Virmire when there was only one choice. Every colonist in stasis that wasn't Kaidan – was that good, and he was alive? Or was that bad, and he was already on the Collector ship?

When the Collector ship took off (that was the goal, right?) she felt a sense of heartache and despair she had only felt once before. When he walked around the corner she felt a sense of impossible joy that she had never, ever expected. Then he was walking away before she began to catch up to what was happening. After imbibing more alcohol than she had since boot camp, alone in her quarters, she had no idea what had happened, and what had happened to her without her noticing, and even less idea what to do about it.

Then she got his message – weak, tentative, uncertain, but not angry. At least not angry. So she took the time to think - really think - about what this meant, what she wanted, what had happened to her, and to him. She wrote him back, as best she could, and hoped it would be enough. And then she went back to work. Time was running out.

But dear god, her "team" - at times testing her reputed love of the variety of galactic life and at times validating it. She honestly could just as well have left Zaeed at the refinery and was a little annoyed he had acquiesced in the end. She had been about ready to lock Jack in her dungeon for the duration of the mission until she had gone to the Cerberus facility where Jack had spent her childhood. There she found the scared, abused little girl within, felt her heart break, and thereafter was overprotective and kind where Jack was concerned. Damned if Jack didn't make that hard though. She hated The Illusive Man for what occurred at that facility more than any of the evil things she had seen Cerberus do - until she saw Project Overlord, that is.

Thane was possibly the most intriguing person she had ever met; she could listen to him talk for hours. If he were human. and not dying… but, well, she had enough relationship issues without adding _those_ thorny factors into the mix. But the universe was going to be a lesser place when he was gone from it and she a greater person for having known him.

If Miranda ever managed to get over her self-loving/self-loathing, superiority complex about her inferiority complex, tangled mess of daddy issues, she would be a truly great person. Highly intelligent, beautiful, sincere in her beliefs, fiercely dedicated to her cause, relentless; Miranda was capable of being magnificent. But damned if she wasn't stubborn, and Shepard was on the verge of giving up on her altogether.

Kasumi was like a best friend from high school, and a joy to have around. She really admired how Kasumi had loved, lost the love of her life, accepted it, and managed to embrace life anyway. At least she thought Kasumi had – every now and then she caught a glimpse of haunting pain in the girl's eyes that made her think maybe, just maybe, it was all an act, a role Kasumi played, and that in truth she was broken in a deep and profound way. Regrettably, other than allowing her to keep the greybox, helping Kasumi past that pain was outside the range of her vast repertoire of skills.

Mordin was the most entertaining, shocking, confounding Tasmanian devil of a creature she had ever encountered. Better than half their conversations left her mouth-agape, head-shaking, speechless or doubled-over in laughter. He was a frigging riot. Yes, he was also emotionally complex, conflicted, and lived in a moral gray area that she would never inhabit, but mostly he was just a frigging riot.

Having Garrus, Tali, and Joker around almost let her at times believe that no time had passed, that she hadn't lost 2 years while the world passed her by. Those moments were peaceful and comfortable in a way few moments were, though only if she ignored how much Tali had grown up, how defeated Garrus was, and how Joker…well, Joker really was exactly the same.

After killing innumerable hundreds, hell, thousands of Geth in the battle against Saren, accepting Legion was rather big of her she thought. He was strange, alien in a way that few aliens were. But it seemed to him – it? – that he was her ally, and somehow his sincerity shown through the metal. Deciding whether to rewrite or destroy the "heretics" was one of the thorniest moral quandaries she had ever faced. Death for being her enemy, or brainwashing for the greater good? Was it even brainwashing? Legion didn't seem to view it that way, but it sure seemed to fit the "organic" definition. Ultimately she determined that blowing up potential allies against the Reapers was not good military strategy, and she rewrote them. But she did lose a little sleep over it that night.

As the time for going through the Omega 4 Relay drew near she found her mood growing darker. Even as she grew closer to, and more appreciative of, her little band of thieves, killers and brigands she felt her notoriously cheery disposition slipping away, replaced by someone more bitter, isolated, withdrawn.

News stories on the Citadel of public sentiment that she had betrayed them, of the Council officially denying her very existence - not to mention her Spectre status, bloody ungrateful sons of bitches.

Her father's voice whispered in her head…"_Live." _Goddammit.

She had to get away from all this, lest she lose herself completely. Away from Cerberus, from The Illusive Man, from this world where every decision was gray. She had to get back to the Alliance, to her world, to her life, to a place where she could see all the wonders of the galaxy instead of only the dark. And soon.

Then the Collectors came. Her crew. Her ship. And dammit but it _was_ her ship. Self-pity forgotten and filled with a righteous anger and thirst for justice she hadn't felt since chasing Saren through the Conduit, she breached the Omega 4 Relay. Gave inspirational speeches before asking her team to die for her. No, not for her. For their crew, for humanity, for everyone.

Damn but she was good at this.

The scale of the horror the Collectors were inflicting was beyond imagining. Building a human Reaper, planning to abduct not thousands, but _millions_ of humans, liquefying each and every one of them for their purposes. It didn't make sense: why go to such immense effort to build _one_ Reaper, when tens of thousands were on the way here? No matter how many times Harbinger popped up in the nearest Collector, he just wouldn't answer that question. In the end it didn't matter. They wouldn't have this one.

The Illusive Man wanted to keep the Base. Keep the Base! Hah. It was with a great deal of zeal that she told him to go fuck himself. It was with a small amount of surprise that she noted Miranda did the same. Maybe there really was hope for anyone. Watching the Base explode in a magnificently beautiful explosion of color and sound, as they careened back through the Relay, she was….happy. Positively bursting with happiness, in fact. Everyone lived. Her crew was back. The Illusive Man was shit out of luck, as it were. And the Collectors were toast. Mission accomplished, again. She wondered if they would throw her another ticker-tape parade.

Yeah, probably not. That was okay; she had done a great thing in a very, very distant place.

Her plans were simple. Get the basic repairs done on the ship. Drop off anyone who wasn't comfortable in the graces of the Alliance at Ilium, from where they could get transport to anywhere. Take herself and _her_ ship to the Citadel and petition the Alliance for reinstatement. She sent off a quick message to Kaidan: "I'm alive. Everyone's alive. Except for the Collectors, that is! I'll see you soon." She was once again riding high on life, on _living_.

Then Admiral Hackett called. Emergency situation, no official Alliance involvement, Batarians….ooh, Batarians. So she took a side trip to rescue the Admiral's "friend." And the world turned a very, very dark shade of gray. The Reapers were coming. Forgotten about them already, had she? Well, they were coming and they were coming now. And so she killed 300,000 Batarians to save trillions. Save? Not really. Just delay.

When Hackett showed up on the Normandy she honestly thought – hoped, at least – that he was there to ask for her help in planning for the coming invasion; that the Council needed her back at the Citadel ASAP for strategy sessions. But no. He was there to tell her that she would stand trial for war crimes. For Batarians! Dammit, she actually hadn't wanted to kill them, had even tried to warn them (a moment in which her brain had started to get over her hatred in fact). But the Alliance wanted to try her for war crimes. They could take away her freedom, her life. And the Reapers were coming. And there was no one to help. And there was nothing she could do.

So she wandered. Hackett had simply said to come when Earth called and they hadn't called. She couldn't go home now, couldn't willingly hand over her freedom, her life. She didn't message Kaidan; his ironclad sense of right and wrong was unlikely to countenance a war criminal. She went to Ilium, killed the Shadow Broker, helped Liara become the new Shadow Broker - a perfect job for Liara if there ever was one. She dropped off her team, one by one, wherever in the galaxy they wanted to go. She wandered.

And then Earth called. 

* * *

><p>She looked up from her cot as the sound of military footsteps echoed down the hallway. Anderson appeared at the cell door, gave her a sympathetic half-smile, and said "It's time."<p>

She shook herself out of her memories, returned the half-smile, and said without hesitation, without doubt, "I'm ready."


End file.
